


To Serve

by days4daisy



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Candles, Dominion Gift Exchange, Episode: s01e07 Ouroboros, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Religious Content, Rival Sex, Season/Series 01, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William places his hand on Alex's arm. This time, he isn't shoved off. "I wasn't expecting a warrior in the clouds," he says. "I don't know what I expected. But you've already given us hope, Alex. You believe in things. You stand up for them." He squeezes Alex arm. "I'm honored to serve you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Serve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/gifts).



> Sorry, Callay, it's me again ;)
> 
> (Takes place during Season 1, Episode 7: "Ouroboros.")

"Whele! I need to talk to you." It's the last voice William expects. Halloran with an update on his father's condition, sure. Or Claire, to discuss plans for the wedding next week. 

But Alex Lannon is the one in the doorway to his father's office. A bottle dangles from his fingertips; liquor too expensive for a V2, by the look of it. But theft among the lower ranks isn't anything new. William himself turns a blind eye in House Whele. It pays to keep the guards happy, and less booze for his father is always a good thing.

Alcohol is the least of David Whele's problems these days. He's still on bed rest, fractured ribs on the mend. It's only a matter of times before he comes to understand the ways of Gabriel.

William stands from his father's desk and comes around to greet him. "Alex!" He lowers his head in a show of respect."What a nice surprise. My father isn't here. He's been ill, I'm afraid-"

"Didn't come for the Consul." Alex drops the bottle on the desk with a clank. William smells scotch on his breath. That isn't his father's usual poison. Stolen from House Romero, perhaps?

"You came to see me?" 

William doesn't need to ask; Alex's glare says it all. "Heard the wedding got moved up."

"Yes." William should have guessed the reason for this visit. He just hadn't expected the news to spread so quickly. It would be easy to gloat, and so gratifying. But William plays his role - pleasant, oblivious. "The general is not well," he explains. "Claire asked to move the date up. It's...delicate, this transition."

Alex's hands clench at his sides. "You're marrying someone who doesn't love you," he says.

William nods. "The union of our families is for the greater good of Vega-"

"You're marrying someone who doesn't love you!" 

William half-expects a punch after the words. Restraint isn't exactly one of Lannon's strengths. But it doesn't come, and William allows himself to shrug. "Love doesn't mean much around here, does it?" He squeezes Alex's arm in sympathy. Alex wrenches away with a warning scowl. "I know this is hard for you, Alex," William continues, unbothered. "It's difficult for Claire too, and me."

"No one's holding a gun to your head," Alex mutters. He reaches for the near-empty bottle behind William. Tips it back and empties it in a pair of gulps.

The drained bottle hits the edge of the desk, then the floor. It doesn't shatter, rolling a few feet away. William watches it. "I've known Claire since we were children," he says. "I care about her, and Vega. Our fathers built this city, Alex. It isn't perfect. It's...pretty far from perfect, actually. But Claire and I can help it. I'm not saying we're the Savior. That's...you're..." He averts his eyes. A tattoo is visible just under the edge of Alex's sleeve. "I'm in your service, Alex. Claire is too. We can change things together. I know we can."

Alex's jaw clenches. "Damn it," he hisses. "Why're you so nice?"

The comment makes William laugh. _Nice_... If Alex only knew. William has learned to thrive off pain; his own and others'. 'Nice' is the last thing William is anymore. Gabriel has made him stronger than even he could have imagined.

He can finish Alex tonight if he chooses; gift-wrap him for Gabriel. it would be so easy!

"Here, let me..." William trails off, on his way to his father's mini bar. Brandy is David's preference. William splits what's left of a bottle between two glasses. It isn't William's favorite liquor. But circumstances favor a drink, and Alex won't care about booze-type in his state.

William hands one glass to Alex. Alex looks at the brandy, then him. "Are you allowed?" he asks, gesturing at William's attire.

William looks down at his own priest robes. "We don't sanction against alcohol in the Church of Saviorism. But I guess I should ask the source, right?" He tilts his head. "May I drink with you, Alex?"

Alex takes a step back at the question. He glares at William, wary. "Yeah, sure," he grumbles.

William touches his glass to Alex's. "Cheers, then," and raises it to his lips. Alex drains his brandy in one swallow. William's eyebrows rise, but he doesn't comment. 

After a sip, he places his still near-full glass on the desk. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Alex?"

Given the empty bottle on the floor, it's hard to imagine Alex came to do more than curse about the wedding. But William's station requires good manners, even standing across from a man who can't stand him.

To William's surprise, Alex looks unsure. "Why'd you get into Saviorism anyway?" he asks.

It isn't a question William expected, and he's not sure how to answer. William knows why his allegiances are now with Gabriel. Under the archangel's guidance, William found power and purpose he never could have in Vega. Here, he will always be the Consul's son. Forever in the shadow of David Whele.

But there was a time when Saviorism was all William knew. He tries to remember those days. "Faith comforts me," he says. "My father and I have never seen eye-to-eye on religion. He was a man of faith before the war, you know. Faith failed him once. But it gave me a reason to get up in the morning." He chews the inside of his cheek. "We have to believe things can get better, don't we, Alex?"

"Claire does," Alex grits. "It's why she's marrying you." William nods. It hurts, but it's also true. Alex isn't wrong. 

"I'm sorry," he says. But he isn't sorry.

Alex shakes his head with a wry smile. "You still happy you stuck with it?" he asks. "Hell, you're leading the damn church! The Chosen One isn't some magic baby or a warrior riding in on the clouds. It's just me."

William frowns. Where is this coming from?

He's right, though. The Chosen One is just Alex Lannon, a common V2 soldier. Is Alex actually special? Or is he just a random luck of the draw, the lottery winner with God's writing on his body? William will ask Gabriel when it's all said and done.

For now, William places his hand on Alex's arm. This time, he isn't shoved off. "I wasn't expecting a warrior in the clouds," he says. "I don't know what I expected. But you've already given us hope, Alex. You believe in things. You stand up for them." He squeezes Alex's arm. "I'm honored to serve you."

Alex snorts a laugh. He pulls away from William and makes for the door. 

After a step, he spins back around. His cheeks are a dull red from the alcohol, but his eyes are surprisingly lucid. "You're honored to serve me?" Alex asks. "How?"

William tilts his head. "I believe in you, Alex. Whatever you need." Who knows what Alex has in mind. Will he try to force William to cancel the wedding again? Ask for a favor against his father?

"Yeah, but...like what?" Alex looks lost. "How do you serve me?"

William blinks. "You mean, officially?"

"Yeah, I guess."

William isn't sure how to respond. "Everything we knew about you was from Michael. I guess I thought..." He chuckles. "I don't know, Michael would guide us? Or you would instruct the Church when the time was right?"

Alex rolls his eyes. "Yeah well, so much for that." 

He has as little information from Michael as they do, apparently. No wonder Gabriel is so confident in victory over his brother. If Michael can't even guide the Chosen One, what hope does he have of winning the war?

William made the right choice. By allying with Gabriel, he's the true Savior. Claire and his father don't see it yet, but they will.

"We have rituals within the church," William offers. "Prayers, hymns. The lighting of candles, the purification with oil-"

"The what?"

"Purification," William repeats. "Our congregation unites all ranks of society. Some come to us in damaged places. We perform the purification as a symbol of rebirth. Like...your birth." William smiles, sheepish. It's weird to recite words he no longer believes in. It's even stranger to say them in front of the man they serve.

William rushes back around his father's desk. He returns from an open drawer with a single candle in a mason jar, a small saucer, and a vial of scented oil. "We use these, see? The ceremony marks the next step of their spiritual journey."

Alex glances at the unlit candle, then the oil. "You put that on the head or something?"

"Yes, we anoint the head. The chest. The back."

"Fine." Alex blows out a breath, as if some decision has been made. He unzips his uniform vest and strips his shirt over his head. The tattoos are in full view. "Lay it on me."

"Wait!" William rushes to the door and double-bolts the lock. The last thing they need is someone barging in on Vega's secret savior. "You're the Chosen One, why would you need..." His voice dies when he turns around. Alex hovers over the desk, striking a match to light the candle.

The tattoos are remarkable. Yes, William saw them when they moved from Jeep to Alex. But this is the first time he's been able to truly study them. The symbols span Alex's skin like a road map. They stretch across his shoulder blades and down his spine, disappearing beneath the waist of his pants.

Gabriel forgive him, William is on his knees before he can stop himself. His old, forgotten faith flares inside him. "Oh my god," William blurts, head bowed. He cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"Get up," Alex hisses.  At least the embarrassment is mutual. William stands slowly, careful not to trip over his robes. 

The candle flame dances across the tattoos. Up close, they are even more impressive. Some of the marks resemble the alphabet William knows. Others are like pictures. He can't understand any of them.

"Do they hurt?" William asks.

Alex hesitates, looking uncomfortable. He shrugs. "They don't hurt, but I feel them sometimes. They...move."

"They move?"Alex nods. He doesn't elaborate, and William knows not to press. He takes the saucer and fills it with the holy oil.

A sudden, crazy thought hits William. Will the marks somehow...sense...his allegiance to Gabriel? Is William in danger? 

No, William has to trust Gabriel's plan. The archangel believes that Alex will come to him on his own. If Alex is destined to join Gabriel, why should William be afraid? Besides, William has wondered about the tattoos since he began to learn the ways of Saviorism. They're so close now. He can't resist.

William tests the temperature of the oil. Pleasantly warm. "Are you sure?" he asks, a wondering look at Alex. 

Alex shrugs again. "Even saviors have shit weeks," he mumbles. "Little purification couldn't hurt."

This doesn't make any sense to William. But he won't argue; it's what Alex wants. He dips his thumb, oil coating the pad of his finger. 

Alex closes his eyes when William touches his forehead. His thumb leaves a wet oval above his brows. Answering oil marks are pressed to Alex's temples. "Purify the mind," William says. "Wisdom and reflection."

William touches his thumb to the edge of the saucer, wiping off the excess oil. He starts beneath Alex's right shoulder and follows his collarbone to the clavicle. The gentle dip fits the shape of William's thumb. Alex swallows. William sucks in a breath. "Strength of the heart and spirit." He repeats the motion on the left side of Alex's collarbone. "Purify the chest. Keep it strong in resolve and devotion."

"Sanctify this vessel," Alex mumbles under his breath. His mouth quirks, the point of a tooth flashing behind his lips. 

William doesn't understand. Alex follows with a quick, "Never mind," before he can ask.

William tucks the words away for later, they seem important. For now, presses his wet thumb to Alex's chin, just beneath his mouth. Alex stutters back in surprise.

William offers an apologetic smile. "Purify the mouth. Faith. Truth." Alex snorts, but he doesn't mock the sentiment out loud. Just drags his tongue over his lips. William catches himself staring. He tears his eyes away. 

William circles to Alex's back, saucer in hand. With his slicked thumb, he traces a line between Alex's shoulder blades. "Purify the back. It carries the burden of those who do not believe." William exhales slowly. "But where one breaks, one becomes strong."

"Is that what you teach them?" Alex glances over his shoulder. "They have to break to be strong?"

William sets the oil on the desk. His thumb is still dripping when Alex faces him. "it's what I believe," he says. "We all break in our own ways."

"Even David Whele's spoiled kid, huh?"

William's smile falters. "We...all break in our own ways, Alex."

A laugh answers the sentiment, bitter and honest. "Yeah, guess we do." 

William feels like he should respond, but the words don't come. They look at each other in awkward silence. Sizing each other up, the principate and the savior. The oil gleams on Alex; a stripe across his collarbone, circles on his forehead and temples. The wet place beneath his mouth.

"Do you know what any of the tattoos mean?" William asks. Not that Alex will tell him. Alex hates him. Doesn't he?

"No." Alex's jaw clenches, considering something. William nods. Whatever Alex came for, it doesn't seem like he's found it. He has William's permission to keep looking.

They move. William's back presses on the desk. Alex stands over him. Their eyes lock, Alex's questioning. In answer, William drags his hand through the stripe of oil on Alex's chest. Wet lines cut through the tattoos on his torso. "Too goddamn nice," Alex mutters.

William should correct him. He isn't nice; he's the only one strong enough to save Claire. Alex may be Michael's Chosen One, but William is Gabriel's..

But he doesn't say a word. Alex steps into his space, pushing him harder against the desk. William's hands slide up his back. He expects to feel the markings for some reason. Swollen like veins, or imprinted etchings. But Alex's skin is smooth, up to the shoulders William digs his fingers into. 

Alex's hands move inside his robes. He smells like scotch and brandy; sharp and sweet. Alex's face is so close, chin leaving a smear of oil on William's skin.

"What's next?" Alex asks abruptly. "After you've purified me?"

What is he trying to find? "You're the Chosen One, Alex." William cocks his head. "You tell me." 

Alex raises a brow. "Lot of power to give one man."

"You're not just a man, Alex," William replies. It's not a smart answer. But despite the warring loyalties, William does believe this, deep down.

A smirk plays at Alex's mouth. He fingers William's robes. "What would Claire say if she saw you like this, huh?"

Odd choice of a low-blow. William frowns, confused. "Why would she care? She doesn't love me, remember?" Alex blows out a breath in place of a response. Maybe it's an apology he isn't willing to say? Alex echoes the unspoken sentiment with a hand on William's chin. William lets him. He isn't sure _why_ he lets him. Lannon may be drunk, but he's also right. Claire wouldn't approve of this. Neither would Michael. Or his father. Or anyone. 

But William feels the call of his cloth, and the hidden desires beneath. The unspoken reason why David pushes examples of Samson's vitality so often. Why he needles William about the status of his relationship with Claire. Why certain guards no longer get assigned to William's detail.

Alex's eyes almost seem black in the candlelight. William can't read his face. Has he had a moment of clarity and realized this is a bad idea?

"Fuck," Alex grumbles. He hooks two fingers in William's collar and pulls him forward. William jolts at the tug around his neck. Before he can say anything, his open mouth tastes a liquor-sweet tongue. William's hands fix to Alex's sides.

The corner of the desk cuts into William's back. Alex forces William's robes up to his waist. Must look ridiculous, but William doesn't care. Alex isn't satisfied. He yanks William's robes up to his chest. Skin exposed, Alex's hands are free to roam. Two hands, then only one. 

Suddenly, William feels pain, white-hot and wet. William hisses surprise at the candle's wax dribbling down his chest. Streaks of white dry to a cool crust.

Alex shrugs. "You purified me."

"Why the can- ah!" William's chest again, goosebumps flaring. He feels the sting right to his groin.

"I get to decide what I purify with, right? Chosen One and all."

This is a bad road to go down, as if having anything to do with Alex Lannon wasn't bad enough. But William is so perplexed, so turned on, he can only manage a dumb nod and a quiet, "Yes, of course."

A snort of a laugh answers him. Alex hovers close, mouth forming words against his temple. "What should I purify next, hm?"

William doesn't get to answer. He feels the lick of the candle flame a second before hot wax dribbles down the his neck. It spills lazily over the hill of his collarbone, leaving streaks of drying white on his chest. 

William can't help his groan. His skin is caked in wax, nipples stiffened to nubs beneath. Wax dribbles down to taint the edges of his underwear. His full arousal fills out the front.

Alex notices. His narrowed eyes lock on William's briefs. William can almost hear his mental pat on the back. 

He forces himself to stand straighter. Regain even a shred of dignity. "It's fine," he says.

"You sure?" The arrogant drawl reminds William of Gabriel.

William's voice fails when Alex scrapes a line of cooled wax from his chest. His back hits the desk top before he knows what's happening, making a mess of his father's papers. They rustle off the table with a shove.

William can't even be amused by the wreckage of David's work. He just grunts and hooks fingers through the belt loops on Alex's pants. Alex rolls his hips forward. William arches under him, torso a network of pink scratches and burn lines. His own markings for the evening, bestowed by the Chosen One.

Alex's hands splay down William's back, cupping his ass and forcing him higher. William opens his legs too easily and welcomes Alex's weight. He lets Alex shove his underwear down, body balanced on David's desk. If only his dad could see him now. As humiliating as this is, the thought pleases William. 

He's grinning when Alex snatches his unfinished brandy from the desk. Alex downs the glass' contents in one swallow, then unzips his own fly. Liquid courage for something William is still trying to understand? 

Alex is halfway there when he draws himself out. Alex fixes this quickly with a palm of the leftover oil. Slick swishes of skin between skin, Alex's blushed cock wet and shining as it thickens in his own palm.

William oils a hand, but Alex has other ideas. He takes both of them between his two hands. Their cocks grind together. 

William's hips spasm forward, leaving a wet mark on Alex's hip. He curses under his breath. The friction between them and the scent of the oil leaves William unbalanced. He grabs Alex's side to try to steady himself. 

Alex sets a hand in the small of William's back and forces him to buck forward again. William groans. Alex bites a trail to his mouth.

"Fuck," William hisses. Alex smirks at the choice of words. 

William tries to join in. Oil drips from his fingers onto their joined cocks. His eyes fix on their two shafts together, red and stiff, rubbing between Alex's hands.

William wants to focus, he _should_ focus. Good as this feels, he still doesn't know what Alex's endgame is here. Is this blackmail against House Whele? Could Alex out this to Claire somehow, try to use this to turn House Riesen against him and his father? But William can't help his straying thoughts. It's been years since he was touched like this. Smiles traded with his security detail. Stolen kisses and more in hidden corners of House Whele.

Alex cups them tighter. William lifts lips to Alex's chin. It distracts William from his own waist moving out of his control. Oil spills in slick lines down the inside of William's thighs. His priest garb is rucked up to his shoulders. The rest of his body is exposed, a mess of dried wax. 

Alex fists them again. William's body grinds forward into Alex's waist. He's so warm. So strong..

A shudder shoots through William when Alex's thumb scrapes across his slit. "Shit! Alex-" Been too long. 

William comes, his body wobbling back against the desk. His sweat leaves a smear on the wood. 

He blinks back dizziness and tries to watch Alex finish himself. He drops William's cock and keeps only his own, fisting himself in a white-knuckled grip.

Alex grunts when he comes, the sound barely audible. William stares at the milky ropes that spurt out on his skin, crossing scratches and dried wax. William's tattoos. His reward for his service.

Alex pulls his pants up and tucks himself in quickly. William lifts a shaking hand to lower his robes. This helps somewhat, a mask over a sullied body, sticky and wet.

Would Gabriel oppose if he saw William now? Or would he see this as a job well done?

"One time," Alex mutters. His eyes are large, as if waking from a dream. He heads for the door.

"I'm... You know I'm always here, Alex," William calls after him.

Alex throws the door open and leaves without another word.

*The End* 


End file.
